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Juliet stood, her fingers tapping along the back of the chair. “Hoppler is a good man underneath what his business makes him do, makes him be. He’s a good man. Honorable. Loyal. Fair. And once in a while, he’ll make me laugh if I’m lucky. He’s probably the best man I’ll ever know. You’re far luckier than you realize. He had you brought here instead of to the Den. I think that tells you everything you need to know about what he intends to do with your heart.”
With a quick nod, Juliet left the room. Left Pen to contemplate her words in silence.
Strider was a good man. The best. She already knew that.
She just didn’t know what she was anymore.
Not after what she did.
{ Chapter 25 }
Stay or leave.
He’d just gambled everything on those words.
Giving her the choice. Giving her a chance to leave him.
When he knew full well that he wouldn’t accept her leaving him. He’d respect it. But he wouldn’t accept it. Ever.
Strider stared at the long whips of branches draping from an ancient willow. It sat by the stream running along the edge of the field ofmature grasses ready for cuttingthat he stood in. The last breezes of summer air set the tree alive, making it dance. The sun was starting to touch the earth, the streams of clouds above it glowing yellow to orange to red.
He’d been waiting two hours, probably longer.
No Pen.
No footman appearing to tell him she had left the estate.
How long did it take to scrub the stench of fish away?
The sudden crunch of grasses rustling behind him floated to his ears and the hairs on the back of his neck stood up. He braced himself, all of his muscles coiled.
It was either a footman or Pen behind him. His future one turn away.
“Strider.”
Pen’s soft voice carried through the wind to him—the whisper of an angel cutting through all he didn’t deserve to give him all he needed.
His muscles suddenly went to jelly, his eyes closed, and he had to take a breath. And another.
His breath held deep in his chest, he spun to her.
She stood, the undulating grasses reaching to her knees,a vision in a wispy peach muslin dress with an outer layer of delicate lace that drifted about her body like a cloud in the slight breeze.Her arms and hands bare, the tips of her fingers entwined in front of her. His eyes moved upward. Her blond hair, still damp with a slight wave in it, hung long and pulled over her left shoulder. Her full lips were slightly parted, her green eyes intense on him.
And still. So very still.
Her mouth parted further, the edges of her lips tugging slightly upward. “This is the field you wanted to meet me in?”
“It’s as close as it comes.”
Her smile spread wider. “It’s an actual field.” She looked around, her head slowly nodding. “It seems right.”
“I wasn’t sure you would make this choice.”
Her look swung to him, the orange glow of the setting sun hitting her green eyes and making them glow. “You were never a choice, Strider. You were always an inevitability.”
He exhaled the breath that had been lodged in his chest, the reality of her words sinking into his muscles, into his bones, and grounding him to the spot in front of her.
And then her next words swept the ground out from under him.
